


And We Dance On The Edge of Blades

by westandvigilant



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:11:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6649564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westandvigilant/pseuds/westandvigilant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>cops & robbers au drabble</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We Dance On The Edge of Blades

“You know, Papa told me that if anything ever happened to him, he wanted me to find a nice boy and head to the coast,” she says with a smile that’s all radiance and innocence, the breeze rolling off the Pacific and running it’s wispy fingers through her hair.

She’s right of course, that’s what Fauchelevent aka Madeleine aka Jean Valjean aka Rikers Prisoner 24601 had told Detective Marius Pontmercy of the 18th Precinct as the sirens rang and blood pooled around their feet and the life dripped out of a hole in the old con’s chest.

Marius smiles back, but he won’t mention that he was the one who pulled the trigger.

* * *

 

 

He watches her serene face and her even breathing, an easy sigh falling from her lips as she sleeps next to him.

In these past months, she had grown worlds away from the unconsolable girl in the morgue he met before turning in his badge and heading to the coast.

She tells him he makes her feel safe and he tells her she makes him happy and it would be true if it weren’t for the claw of dread ripping at his lungs.

* * *

 

They’re washing dishes when she finally asks him point blank, jaw set and eyes boring into his own, so he has no choice but to give her exactly the answer she asks for.

And she looks at him like she has never seen him before in her life, just says “no no no no,” soft and ragged and painful.

He doesn’t have time to say anything before she slips the ring off her finger and drops it down the drain, but he whispers a tear thick “forgive me” to the closed door as he drops to his knees and begins ripping out the pipes under the sink.

* * *

 

The sun is already sinking behind the ocean’s surface, vast and turbulent, while she sits hugging her knees in the cool sand, thin apron wrapped around her thighs in vain attempt at warmth.

Steady and silent, Marius bends down to bundle her up in his trench coat, but her eyes stay fixated on the grey beach beneath her as she asks him: “Papa was in a bad way, wasn’t he?”

Marius nods and she turns glassy eyes to him, "He was a good man though, wasn’t he?“

"One of the few,” he answers as she dissolves into sobs on his shoulder and he slips his hands around her waist, strong and sure - not because it’s how he feels, but because its what she needs - until the sun sets and the only light between them is the reflection of the moon off the wedding ring in his palm.


End file.
